Hey Guys! I know I haven't updated in a really long time, and I know my updates have been slow and I'm supper sorry, but there's nothing I can do about that. I just have so much going on right now :(

I wanted to give a bog thank you to my new beta: Penelope Wendy Bing for helping me with this chapter, and to Tastethecrayon for submitting this wonderful character! I hope you all enjoy the chapter, tell me what you think!

Hadrian Cross POV

I roll out of bed, letting my sheets fall to the floor. I shuffle downstairs, rubbing sleep from my eyes. Mother is sitting at the kitchen table, finishing up her breakfast. The second she I step into the room she stands, as if she's so repulsed by me she can't sit another minute. I know she blames me for Father leaving. Actually, she blames me for everything. She marches swiftly from the room leaving her dirty dishes on the table.

"Clean up this mess," Mother grumbles, pushing past me.

I wait a moment before silently stepping into the kitchen, scooping up her dishes, and straightening the chairs. I wash the dishes slowly, trying not to think about my Father. The cold water washes away dirt and grime, leaving the scars around my hands to be seen by the rest of the world. My breath hitches, and I can't look away from my hand. Screaming, pleading, crying, it all echoes in my ears. The pain I felt leaks into my brain, tensing my whole body. I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to ward off the memories. I scrub the plate I'm washing so hard that it snaps in two. I stare blankly down at the broken fragments, my insides hollow. The plate drops from my hands, and I grip the counter trying to steady myself. I see my knuckles go white, and my head spins.

I need to get out of here. I need to leave, maybe go to the library, and read. But first I need to clean this up. If I don't I'll have hell to pay when I get home. And today I don't feel like dealing with Mother's crap, because today is reaping day. And if I'm still here at the end of it, I'll see Mother's disappointment like I do every year. So I clean up the broken dish, and wash the rest of them. Then I'm out the door.

I'm at the bottom of the steps when I realize I'm only in sweatpants and my chest is bare. I want to go inside to get a shirt on, but Mother's upstairs, and her room is before mine. So I doubt I'll get to go read at all if I go back inside. So I run to the library. Ignoring the whispers of admiring girls, and the adults who say I have issues.

I race through the wooden doors, not bothering to stop by the front desk. I dart to the "Old World" section, pulling a random book from the shelf. The familiar pages feel warm underneath my fingers. I feeling of belonging captures me, as I settle down to read. I stay there until about an hour before the reaping starts, then I have to head home to change.

I creep past my Mother's room as quietly as possible, but she still hears me.

"Hey Kid!" She calls not bothering to use my real name. She never does.

"What?" I hiss, seething in her doorway. I don't want this crap, why won't she just leave me the hell alone?

"I hope you get picked this year." She says simply, then turns back to whatever she was doing. It shouldn't make an impact on me. She says it every year. But for some reason this time I boiled over.

"Bitch!" I accuse, glaring at her. My Mother's mouth pops open, and I spin on my heal and march to my room.

-page break-

I pull at my tie. Why is it mandatory to dress up anyway? This thing is so stupid. I stand beside the other seventeens, but it is like I'm in a bubble. The people closest to me a pushing at the other kids, trying to get as far away as possible. I barely notice though.

Mayor Jasem finishes his dumb speech, and Fare bounds onto the stage. Her hand plunges into the girls bowl and she extracts a perfectly manicured slip of paper.

"Amelie Tintings!" She yells. A girl comes out from the sixteen section. She looks as if she's in a daze. Her feet floating forward, her eyes distant. Then Fare is yelling another name. My eyes flash from the dazed girl to Fare, and I scowl. Life is just so unfair sometimes, because the name Fare is calling is mine.

"Hadrian Cross!" I step forward and the crowd parts in obvious fear. I step on stage and shake Fare's hand. Well, at least I wont have to deal with my crappy family anymore.